Attack of the Killer Wasp

...or Reasons Why I Am Not Allowed to Live By Myself, part one*

I would like to start off here by saying that I consider myself to be a tough person in many ways. Many, many ways that include things like taking the high road when people are being nasty to me (karma kat is coming for you) and not crying when I got my bellybutton pierced (and it hurt like a bitch, let me tell you. However bad bitches hurt, it was that bad). But I simply can't stand bugs. At all. My two exceptions used to be butterflies and ladybugs, but now we're down to just ladybugs because butterflies are pretty and stuff but really? When you get up close they have hair. All over their body. Thick hair, yucky hair. Like a moth. So butterflies are out, ladybugs are in. They are the only bug in our house that I will not allow Matt to kill, even though he is designated bug-killer for a reason. They just are so sweet and innocent, and it's not their fault that I live in a crappy house with lots of holes through which bugs might wander. It's not their fault that my living room is so cozy and fun to hang out in that they like to bring a bunch of friends to have a party on the ceiling fan before they realize there are no aphids to be had. And if I can't get to them before they realize this, they end up starving and dying in the crack between the blinds and the window, perpetually buzzing at an outside world that they will probably never find their way back to. Also, my mom took a picture of two ladybugs mating once and I kind of feel like I owe it to them to make up for her lack of respect for their privacy. Because she then framed it and hung it in my sisters room.

But I digress.

Today, presumably through one of the holes in my house because I certainly didn't let it in, a wasp got into my house. Into my cozy, cozy living room. With the ladybugs and the blinds and the fabulousness. And seriously? This was no small wasp. This was a big honking mother-of-all-wasps. This was the wasp that makes the other wasps. It probably shits them out of its huge stinger. Did I mention it had a huge stinger? This isn't a euphemism people, this thing had a HUGE STINGER. HUGE. Like what in holy hell did I do to deserve this nonsense?

So, right before it came buzzing at me with its huge death-claw (and it did, because I heard buzzing all the way up the stairs), I ran up and hid in my room and blocked the door jamb with a sweatshirt. Because I am thorough like that. And then I called my boyfriend, who was at work, and I guess wasp in the house isn't like, an adequate excuse to leave or something even though it was practically life and death because I don't know if I'm allergic to wasps and I have an uncle who is and I don't want to find out and then die a horrible death alone in my messy room.

Since I then decided I was going to be proactive about the whole thing, I called the clubhouse (I live in a gated community, but only because I live in a semi-bad area and not because I'm rich or something, because I'm not, and also they have maintenance people and stuff who Matt sort of made friends with so I was pretty sure they'd be willing to come help me out) and explained the situation and asked if they would send someone. And they did. And he was definitely someone who was not afraid of a stupid old two-inch-long wasp. And then? I couldn't find the wasp. He asked me where it was and I told him I didn't know because was I seriously supposed to sit on the couch and track its movements while it got angrier and angrier that it was stuck in my living room until it decided to come and attack me? I think not my friend. I think not. So he looked at me like I was crazy (which I am) and then poked at the blinds a little and decided that it just wasn't there. And left me there, terrified and afraid to move, with little more than the advice of "just throw a towel on it, that'll kill 'em" to help save my life maybe.

This is an awful situation to be in, since I don't know where this freaking wasp is and probably it's just biding its yucky wasp time until it can come kill me. Also, why do wasps even exist? They are ugly, they eat nothing important, and they don't do anything except sting you and laugh because unlike bees, their stinger doesn't even fall out after they hurt you, so they can do it again and again and again. I know this from all the internet research I've done (which is to say, exactly none) and I think we should just kill all the wasps. Even their name is hard to say, especially when it's plural. Waspswaspswasps. Say that 5 times fast. I bet you won't.

So that was today's adventure. Oh, PS, I spent a lovely spring break in France with my Matt. I will be posting day-by-day summaries of what went on there, probably for the next few days. Maybe a few a day. Who knows? I'm spontaneous like that.

*It is important to note that I don't actually have a part two idea, much less three or four, so part two will come if and when inspiration hits. So maybe never.